


Sentience

by angelwing



Category: In the Flesh (TV)
Genre: Abusive Parents, Alternate Universe, Autistic Simon Monroe, M/M, Past Drug Addiction, Robot AU, Robot/Human Relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-02
Updated: 2015-03-07
Packaged: 2018-03-15 23:58:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,861
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3466841
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angelwing/pseuds/angelwing
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The words bring Simon back to reality for a moment. This is a model. Not a person, not a one of a kind creation, not a being made up of millions of cells, an endless amount of specific, unique strands of DNA. This is a model, built in a factory, mass produced to suit the likings of the masses.</p><p>And it’s working, apparently. Because this model has caught Simon’s attention. It blinks again, and Simon breathes a sigh. “How much is it?”</p><p>------------------</p><p>An AU where Kieren is a robot, and Simon, a sad lonely human living with his parents, just wants a friend.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Meeting

The eyes are a deep, dark, chocolate brown, wide and large like full moons. Long, golden eyelashes gently brush over soft, pale skin as the robot blinks. The movement is so natural, so graceful and elegant and delicate, that Simon almost forgets that the being he’s staring at is purely artificial. Other than the occasional blinking, however, the robot is motionless, arms at its side, back straight and stiff. But it’s still so _beautiful_.

“That one caught your interest?” asks a voice to Simon’s left, and he jumps a bit, turning quickly, staring at the salesman. “Definitely a cutie. Younger than most of the other models - built to be around eighteen, I think? Just released a few weeks ago and already nearly sold out entirely.”

That’s right. The words bring Simon back to reality for a moment. This is a model. Not a person, not a one of a kind creation, not a being made up of millions of cells, an endless amount of specific, unique strands of DNA. This is a model, built in a factory, mass produced to suit the likings of the masses.

And it’s working, apparently. Because this model _has_ caught Simon’s attention. It blinks again, and Simon breathes a sigh. “How much is it?”

xxx

Simon doesn’t take the robot home. Not yet. He doesn’t know how he’ll explain himself, doesn’t know what his parents will do when they find out the last of his money was spent on a robot. He doesn’t have the energy to care, but he also doesn’t have the patience to deal with whatever sort of lecture he’ll be given for doing it. So he drives to a small hotel, renting out a room for the night.

Simon orders pizza for dinner, because that’s easy and cheap and at this point he’ll be asking his parents for money again (he may be living with them, but he won’t stoop _that_ low) if he spends anymore. He then works on bringing his robot inside. It’s in a box, and it’s heavy - thanks to the plethora of metal machinery that it’s insides are made up of - but luckily, it’s kept on wheels, and Simon has little trouble wheeling it out of the back of the car and into the small hotel room.

Soon, he’s unpacked the robot, and it stands there, just as it had in the store, but with it’s eyes closed. And even now, it’s _stunning_. He’s not entirely sure if human beings can actually have golden eyelashes, he doesn’t know if they can or should be that long, but they’re so _beautiful_ , and Simon’s hands tremble with a sort of awe and reverence as he reaches around the robot, to gently place a hand on the control panel on the back of its neck, the only spot where the illusion of life is lost.

There’s a small button there, and Simon finds himself hesitant to press it, as if scared of what will happen once this creature comes to life. But he does, closing his eyes and pressing down on the button, and then taking a step back to watch.

At first, there’s a soft sound and nothing else. It’s a quiet hum-like noise, soft and whirring and coming from deep within the robot in front of him. And then, Simon watches with amazement as the robot’s eyes open wide, and he’s staring into them. They’re so big, so dark and beautiful, and he swallows, breathing shallow, in stunned silence as the robot begins to move, slowly at first, raising a single arm from its side and looking at its own hand, head tilting just a bit in curiosity.

Then, it looks at Simon. _Really_ looks at him, not an empty robotic gaze, but a deep, inquisitive look, studying him, summing him up, acknowledging him and deciphering him. “Hello,” it greets blandly. But the anticlimactic nature of the greeting doesn’t bother Simon. Rather, he’s left in an even greater state of wonder, and suddenly, the “it” pronouns he’s been using for the robot feel wrong in his head, and are replaced with a _he_. _He_ , the robot, is still staring, waiting expectantly for a response.

Simon smiles just a bit, and takes a deep breath. “Hello,” he echoes. And then, awkwardly, he adds, “Do you have a name, then?”

The robot nods. Soft golden-red hair bounces just a bit on his head at the gesture, and Simon fights the urge to reach up and touch it. “K-One-E-R.” the robot says. K1ER. Simon frowns, brought back to earth for a moment, reminded that he is speaking to a piece of machinery with a meaningless jumble of numbers and letters for a name. K1ER...

In a stunning attempt to bring the illusion back, Simon quickly says, “So, Kier.”

“What?”

“Kier. That’s your name.”

The robot shakes his head. “N- No, it’s not, I-”

Simon smiles just a bit, because the robot - K1ER - looks flustered now, confused, trying to figure out why he’s being told misinformation, every piece of machinery that makes up his thought process whirring silently as it attempts to make light of the contradiction. “The numbers and letters in your name, they look like the word Kier.” Simon explains. And the robot’s eyebrows raise a bit, and he takes a moment to process this before understanding.

“Kier,” He says it so softly, so gently, almost hesitantly, even, as if still trying to fully understand the meaning of it. Simon finds himself at a loss for words, staring, unable to do anything but give a slow nod.

And then finally, he says, “That’s right.”

And now it’s K1ER’s - _Kier's_ \- turn. “And who are you, then?”

Simon is caught off guard by the question. “S- Simon Monroe. You can call me Simon. I bought you, so I’m your… owner.” he explains, and then he wonders almost nervously if Kier is capable of comprehending that, capable of actually knowing that he’s a robot. Curious, he explains this to him, “You’re a robot. A… type of robot who’s meant to serve people. You know that, yeah?”

Kier nods. “I know,” he says. “I was programmed that way. All of us were. Many of us work similarly to service dogs, we can help the disabled, as well as provide comfort and care to the elderly, housework for those too busy or ill to keep their home at top conditions… Have you bought me for any of these reasons?”

For a moment, Simon thinks. Then he shakes his head. “No, not really. I…” He bites his lip. He could lie. He probably will lie to his parents. But he supposes little good will come from lying to a robot. “I bought you because I… need…” How cliche would this sound? Simon wants to slap himself, wants to punch himself for being so childish. “Well, I was just curious, when I heard about you, and I… wanted a friend, I guess.”

“A friend?” Considering the fact that he’s a robot, Kier is admirably good at seeming completely and utterly shocked. He stares with those wide, dark eyes of his, eyebrows furrowed just a bit, and he takes a moment to fully process Simon’s words before he says, “That’s not my intended use. I don’t mean to dismay you or give you reason to ask for your money back, but we aren’t built for relationships.”

Simon sighs, and in retrospect, it probably is his fault for saying something so fucking stupid. “I know that.” he says quickly. “Look, I just mean… I don’t have anything in particular I want you to do, I just want you around, alright?”

Kier nods at that. “I can be around,”

This catches Simon off guard. If he hadn’t known any better, he would have thought he heard a hint of sarcasm in his voice, and he’s surprised. Because… well, robots can’t do that, right? He’s probably imagining it, he figures - he’s never been great at picking up on sarcasm anyway.

Instead, he replies with a smile, and a slightly awkward, “Great!”

And then there’s a knock at the door. From outside, Simon hears a voice call, “Pizza’s here!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here it is! The first chapter of a fanfiction that was supposed to be a oneshot! Haha...... I broke it up like I did for the sake of easier writing, into five parts, so I figured, what the hell? I might as well write something with shorter chapters for once, and release it day by day or something (I have three out of five chapters already written!).
> 
> Anyway, enjoy! I don't have much to say about this, I just really like robot AUs and was toying with this idea for awhile and finally decided to sit down and write it.


	2. Parents

Simon turns Kier off before bed that night, leaving him with his eyes closed and his body stiff in the corner of the hotel room. He’s woken the next morning by a string of angry texts from his father, wondering where he is. He doesn’t call, but he does humor him by sending, “I’ll be home soon!”

After going to the hotel lobby and finding the free coffee promised there, Simon returns to the hotel room and turns Kier on, sitting down on the bed to watch him as he comes to life. Once awake, Kier takes a moment to be fully functional, gently biting down on his lower lip in a gesture that mimics human contemplation as he remembers the information he had gathered last night. Then, he opens his eyes and smiles a bit at Simon.

“Good morning.”

Simon finds himself chuckling a bit at the blandness of the greeting. “Hey there,” he replies. “We’re heading home this morning, get ready.”

Kier shakes his head at that. “I have nothing I need to prepare.” he says. Then he blinks, looking around the hotel room, eyebrows risen just a bit in interest. “I had assumed you lived here.” he explains, his tone almost apologetic. “Unless home has some other meaning to you…?”

“What _other meaning_ would ‘home’ possibly have?”

There’s a moment where the robot seems unsure of if he should actually answer this, but he seems to decide that there’s no reason not to, and he replies, “Home has many different meanings, and can be a noun, adjective, adverb, or verb, depending on its usage. The definition is typically thought to be ‘ _the place where one lives permanently_ ,’ but it can also mean ‘ _an institution for people needing professional care_ ,’ ‘ _of or relating to the place where one lives_ ,’ or-”

“It’s okay, Kier, I got it. You don’t need to define home for me.” Simon is smiling in spite of himself, and he stands up, rolling his eyes as he does. “Thanks, though.” He walks to the door, motioning for Kier to follow, as he exits the hotel room.

The drive back home is too short. Simon dreads his arrival the entire way, and Kier’s silence in the back seat doesn’t help much. When they pull into the driveway, Simon is practically shaking, and his feet feel like they’re filled with lead as he slowly makes his way to the front door and rings the doorbell of the small house.

A dark haired man greets him, and his expression becomes one of relief before immediately fading to one of anger. “Where the hell were you last night?!”

Simon swallows. “I was out.”

“Where?” the man demands. “You think you can take up space in our house and then fucking leave with no notice whenever you goddamn feel like it?! If you want the freedom of doing whatever the hell you want at night, don’t be a fucking thirty year old living with your parents.”

Deciding that now is not the best time to remind his father that he still has three years before he’ll reach thirty, Simon forces his expression to remain unchanged. His eyes hover beneath his father’s, refusing to meet them. “I’m just getting back on my feet, you know that-”

“Getting back on your feet from fucking _rehab_. You think that’s a goddamn excuse?”

Simon tries desperately to keep his face from reddening. He looks down at his feet now, and at his side, his hands have begun to fidget restlessly. “I bought something,” he explains quietly now. “T- To help me. With getting out of here.” There it is. The lie. He bites his lip.

“You bought something? With our money?”

“No, with mine.”

The man laughs coldly. “So you’re even further away from moving out than before. That's bloody _great_ , isn't it?”

Simon shakes his head, eyes still on the ground. “No, you don’t understand. Th- These are… they help people, people with disabilities, people who need assistance…” He turns around now and walks to the car, where Kier is sitting patiently, waiting. His brow furrows as he sees Simon approach, and Simon wonders if he can tell how shaken up and not okay he is. “Come on, Kier, I… need to introduce you to my dad.”

Kier nods and gets out of the car now, and follows Simon back to the front door. The man there stares at Kier for a moment, a bitter expression on his face, before saying, “Who the fuck is this, then?”

Kier holds out a hand. “I’m K1ER. Simon Monroe is my owner, and has called me Kier, since that’s what the letters and numbers in my name look like.” He smiles proudly at Simon, who can’t bring himself to smile back.

And suddenly, the man understands, and he turns on Simon once more. “You spent the last of your cash on a bloody _robot_?”

“T- To help with… living on my own with autism.” Simon’s stuttering now, and he’s aware of the way Kier’s eyebrows have furrowed, immediately recognizing the lie and struggling to figure out whether or not to correct him. He decides against it, luckily, and remains silent, but continues to stare at Simon with a slightly confused expression. “I mean... “ He forces a laugh. “God knows I fucked up the first time around, right?”

His father doesn’t laugh. Rather, he hits the wall, making Simon jump with surprise, and when he speaks, his voice is loud and angry. Simon’s hands are fidgeting at his side, fingers tapping against his thumb, and he’s shaking his wrists repetitively. “Your mother nearly had a goddamn fucking _heart attack_ when she saw you were out tonight. She’s fucking dying and she still has the energy to give a shit about you, and you _RUN AWAY AND BUY A GODDAMN ROBOT_?!”

Simon doesn’t answer. He doesn’t look at his father’s face, let alone acknowledge his words, but instead forces his way past him and into the house. Kier follows silently behind him. They walk past the living room and down a hallway, and Kier’s eyes are wandering everywhere, learning the place, scanning it and committing it to electronic memory.

One of the doors in the hallway is open, and a woman lays on the bed. Kier eyes her for a moment, and he turns to Simon as they walk. “She looks ill. My intended use is to take care of those who need help, should I-”

“She’s dying, there’s no use.” Simon’s words are terse, and he doesn’t look back at Kier as he speaks to him. Rather, he walks down the hallway and to the end of it, where his own room, small and empty, lays. He enters, and once Kier is inside as well, he slams the door shut. He then walks to the bed, sitting down on it, and begins to rock back and forth on it a bit, his fingers drumming on the mattress.

Kier watches for a moment, before saying, “Speaking of intended use - What you told your father is different than what you told me. Am I here to help with autism? I have such capabilities, do you wish for me to change my-”

Again, Simon interrupts, too on the edge to be able to wait for Kier to finish his sentences once he’s gathered the gist of them. “No, I don’t, I just told him that.” he says. “You don’t have to change anything, you’re fine.” He goes back to silently rocking and tapping, and the robot continues to frown, a look of confusion still on his face. He’s silently calculating, trying to process what exactly to do, reading through every line of programming to find the best method of action.

“If you were a robot, I’d think your gears are broken.” Kier says finally, and he lets out a soft chuckle. “I mean, you’re movements are repetitive. You’d have to be sent back to the factory and repaired.”

Simon looks up at Kier now, surprised. “You make jokes?” he asks.

Kier blinks. “I’m equipped with all sorts of interaction features. I understand basic humor, I think.”

Simon’s own thoughts are pushed aside as he stares at the robot in awe. Robots can’t think, can they? He shouldn’t be able to say “I think.” He can’t comprehend it, that the being in front of him is one of circuits and wiring and metal, and not flesh and blood. It’s overwhelming, and for a brief moment he’s lost in thought, but he quickly goes back to the previous topic. “I was stimming, Kier. Repeating movements like that can calm me down.”

Kier nods. “I know what stimming is.” he says. “Like you said, I was just joking,” He walks over to the bed and sits beside Simon. When he speaks again, he’s changed the subject, and his voice is soft and kind. “Are you alright, Simon?”

Simon sighs and shakes his head. “No,” he says quietly, but he finds himself feeling the need to elaborate, because he feels almost bad, leaving the robot with such a vague and frankly quite negative answer. “But it’s alright. It doesn’t matter now. I just… need to get out of here soon.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Stimming is a legit and very very very common autistic thing and just for the record rocking back and forth is one of my favorite stims in the world and Im 99% sure Simon would do the same. Also robo!Kier sounds like Baymax tbh..
> 
> Anyway tho, thank you all so so so much for the nice reviews, they mean so much to me aah you have no idea. Thank you, and enjoy!


	3. Overload

Kier has been with Simon for a week. Simon’s father has banned him from leaving Simon’s bedroom, so he spends his days turned off in the corner, alone and unmoving, only being started up occasionally. In fact, on some days Kier isn’t turned on at all.

But today, Simon turns Kier on immediately. It’s seven in the morning, and although being a robot keeps him from particularly feeling tired, Kier finds himself surprised, or at least as surprised as a robot can be, at the early awakening. “Is something wrong?” he asks, voice soft with concern.

Simon shakes his head. “No, but I need to ask something of you. I’m going out to look for a job with my father. He doesn’t like mom being left alone, so you… need to take care of her. Can you do that?”

Kier nods immediately. “Of course I can. Helping the sick is a crucial part of my functioning.”

xxx

Simon’s mother is incredibly sick. Watching her doesn’t require much effort on Kier’s part, and he spends a good portion of the day standing by her bedside while she simply lays there, either asleep or too weak to move. He tries talking to her at times, but he gets little to no response.

At around three, the door flies open with enough force that it hits the wall with a bang. Kier goes quiet and turns, blinking wide, electric eyes, curious but not moving, body not capable of fear or worry, but silently trying to calculate the reason for the sound. No voices come from the front of the house, but he hears footsteps, and then he sees Simon all but run down the hall, into his bedroom, and hears the door slam shut behind him.

Instantly, Kier has left his assigned duty to watch the woman, and returned to his regular job - Simon, being his owner, will always be top priority. He walks to Simon’s room and opens the door, and finds the lights are off. He looks around, for a moment unable to find Simon, before finally noticing him in the corner, knees brought to his chest and hands over his ears. He’s rocking back and forth, eyes shut tight.

“C- Close the door, Kier.”

Kier nods, silent, and shuts the door gently. Then he walks over to Simon and kneels down in front of him. “Are you alright?” he asks softly. He reaches out, and Simon swats his hand away.

“Go away,” Simon’s voice is weak. He’s still rocking just a bit, back and forth in the corner, eyes never opening. “Get out, just leave me alone.”

Kier blinks, seemingly ignoring Simon’s request. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

Simon doesn’t respond, so Kier, hesitant, inches forward until he’s close to Simon. He presses close to him, and wraps an arm around him, gently bringing his hands down from where they’re pressed to his ears. “Is there something you want to talk about?” Kier asks gently now, unphased by Simon’s lack of response to the previous question. His voice is so soft, so sweet and kind and perfect, that Simon doesn’t mind it, even likes it, likes the gentle calmness, even needs it right now.

“The place was loud and bright and I couldn’t goddamn handle it and my dad watched me completely fucking _freak out_.” Simon explains bitterly, starting to tremble. Kier squeezes him gently, pulls him closer. “I start trying to cover my ears, but ‘that’s not professional!’ and I try to go to the bathroom, try to find a place that’s at least _quiet_ but my dad fucking _knows_ that I was just-”

Kier interrupts him, shaking his head and saying, “I meant, something you _want_ to talk about. It doesn’t have to be about what happened, Simon. Just talk.”

Simon blinks. “What?”

“Tell me about something you like?” Kier suggests. “I know you’re my owner. I know you bought me because you want a friend, but you told your father something else. I know your name is Simon Monroe and you live with your father and your sick mother. But I don’t know much about you. Tell me about something you like?”

Simon stares at Kier for a long while, overwhelmed, and the fact that he’s speaking with artificial intelligence forgets to cross his mind. “I... “ He wets his lips, silent. “P- Poetry.” he finally stammers out. “I’ve always liked poetry.”

Kier smiles. “Tell me about poetry. Do you have a favorite poet? Do you write poetry?” He chuckles a bit. “I don’t think I’m programmed to write poetry very well. We aren’t exactly known for being artsy. I think I could make an excellent painter, though, considering the way I use photo memory to retain information.”

Simon blocks that statement out, not wanting to ruin the illusion that he is in fact talking with a human, and hums. “I don’t write much, but I’ve read all my life.” he explains. He’s still rocking back and forth, but he’s relaxed now, and his hands are at his side. “Yeats was always my favorite.”

Kier goes silent as his mind seems to scan over every piece of information he has access to, and then he nods. “William Butler Yeats. An Irish poet.”

“That’s right.”

Simon spends the next half hour discussing poetry in the corner of the dark room with the robot. Kier doesn’t say much, but he listens to everything, and that’s all Simon can ask for. Finally, Simon stands up, but he makes no move to leave the room. Rather, he turns to Kier and says, “I feel exhausted.”

Kier nods. “Meltdowns can take a toll on both mental and physical health.” he states, and it feels weird to Simon now, to hear him state bland facts. For a moment he’d started to forget what he was… The conversation, the talking, it had felt natural, and good, and he hadn’t really considered the fact that his conversation partner was… well, not alive. And admittedly, he had _tried_ not to. He had liked the idea, that Kier was a real, living person who had taken an interest in what he had to say.

“I think I’m going to nap.”

Kier nods again, and watches as Simon climbs into bed, pulling the blankets over himself. However, after only moments he has groaned with discomfort and rolled onto his other side, shifting restlessly. “I can’t.” he mutters. “I’m too… I guess I’m all shaken from what happened. Overload and all.”

A soft laugh leaves Kier, which surprises Simon, who wonders vaguely where his programming had to have gone wrong to have made him think that was something worth laughing about. “Can I help somehow?” he asks. Simon almost thinks Kier’s tone is teasing, but he refuses to believe it. Robots can’t tease.

Simon shrugs. “I dunno, do you have something in mind?”

“Something silly.” Kier admits. The words seem so strange, so out of place and odd coming from a robot, because Simon is painfully aware that Kier is in fact a robot now, that Simon sits up, staring at him with confusion. Kier shrugs. “I was just going through different tactics I’ve been programmed to know. To help with overloads and meltdowns and provide comfort to autistic people who are having trouble.”

Simon blinks, and he doesn’t know how he feels about that, to have his troubles be seen as simply a part of Kier’s program. “You’re… welcome to try…?”

Kier nods. He climbs onto the bed now, and gently pushes Simon’s chest, getting him to lay down on his back. And then Kier smiles and, much to Simon’s surprise, lays down on top of him, snuggling up and resting his head between Simon’s neck and shoulder. And he’s _heavy_. Not so heavy that it hurts, but heavy enough that Simon probably wouldn’t be able to push him off. But the heaviness is welcome, and Simon, hesitant, reaches to run his fingers through the soft hair on the robot’s head.

“I know that weight and pressure can be comforting.” Kier explains.

Simon nods. “Yeah,” he says, voice soft, his mind clearly elsewhere. He lets his hands wander down now. Kier wears basic but comfortable clothing - a very warm, soft hoodie and a pair of grey sweatpants. He touches the fabric of the hoodie, and the texture is comforting against his fingers. Kier’s skin, he finds, as he rests his hand over the robot’s, is soft too, and surprisingly warm, and he wonders if Kier has some sort of internal heater.

Kier looks up Simon with large, dark eyes. “Are you going to sleep?” he asks quietly. “Do you feel a little better now?”

Simon nods. “A bit,” he admits, nodding. He closes his eyes, and Kier smiles as he presses himself up close to Simon once more. Kier cannot sleep, doesn’t have a reason to, but he remains there, pressed close to Simon, until the other wakes up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those who had trouble picking this up and don't previously know the term, sensory overload is when the body's senses are over-stimulated to the point that you... become overwhelmed. It's common among autistic people and it absolutely sucks, and for lots of people it leads to basically hiding in the corner of a dark room until everything stops feeling loud and bright heh
> 
> As always, though, enjoy! I liked writing this chapter a lot !


	4. Broken

Simon wakes up with a heavy, warm weight pressed down on him. He opens his eyes, looking around sleepily. Behind the curtain covering the window he can see dim orange and pink sunlight. Is the sun setting or rising? Setting, he thinks. He remembers now, vaguely, what happened. He had fallen asleep after coming home at around three. How long had he been asleep?

A soft “hm,” comes from on top of him now, and he looks down to his chest, where the heavy weight is pressing down, and he’s suddenly aware of Kier, laying on top of him still, face buried between his shoulder and neck, his eyes closed as if mimicking sleep. “Are you awake?” he asks, and his voice is soft and gentle.

Simon nods, and reaches to Kier’s hair to stroke it, fingers running through the soft hair. He wonders for a moment if it’s artificial, and if so, what it’s made of, but he pushes that thought aside. “Did you sleep too?” he asks.

Kier sits up now, swinging a leg over Simon to straddle him, and looks down at his face with those deep, dark eyes of his. “No, I didn’t. I don’t sleep.”

Simon bites his lower lip at that, and sits up a bit, forcing Kier to slide from where he’s sitting on his chest and into his lap. “Shit, I’m sorry. You didn’t have to stay there like that, I-”

“It’s fine, Simon. I was doing my job. Would it make you feel better if you knew I don’t even think? It’s not like I can lay there and get bored. I just laid there and waited until you were awake and I had a reason to function again.” Kier smiles at Simon, who’s now just about eye level with him.

Simon doesn’t find Kier’s words comforting. Rather, he finds himself simply staring at him, trying to comprehend what he’s been told, feeling an odd mixture of fear and pity rise in his chest. He supposes it was obvious, that a robot wouldn’t be able to think. But Kier seems so alive, so aware, that the idea of him lacking a thought process, lacking the ability to _exist_ without a purpose… it frightens Simon. He finds himself chewing on his lower lip in thought again, staring at Kier with his brow furrowed.

Kier seems aware that he’s made Simon uncomfortable, for he says now, “I’m sorry. In the future, if you want, you’re welcome to shut me off before you fall asleep, so my system will be completely turned off. I guess it’s my equivalent of sleeping?” He chuckles softly, and Simon doesn’t feel much better.

So instead of giving a response, he reaches for Kier’s hair again, letting his fingers brush through it. Then his hand wanders down, the pads of his fingers brushing gently, so lightly that they’re barely there, over the soft skin of Kier’s cheek, then resting them there, fingers pressed to the artificial flesh. Kier blinks at him, gazing at his face through golden eyelashes and chocolate eyes.

“Can you feel?”

Simon isn’t sure what compels him to ask the question. Part of him is scared to hear the answer. But Kier doesn’t respond immediately. Instead, he presses his face closer to where Simon’s fingers are, letting his face be cupped in his hand. “Not like you do,” he admits. “I have sensors throughout me, I can process that I’m being touched somewhere, and react appropriately to said touch. But I don’t think I feel the way you do.” He closes his eyes now, and Simon is staring, unable to form words, trying to comprehend the beautiful creature sitting in his lap.

xxx

Simon goes out to look for a job again a day later. He goes alone this time, not wanting to risk another meltdown in front of his father, so Kier has no reason to be turned on. So he stays, shut off in the corner of Simon’s room.

Or at least, that’s where Simon leaves him.

Simon comes home not much later than he did the day before, but with a much better attitude. He’s excited, and he wants to share the news with Kier - because robot or not, he _is_ a friend. Kier’s done his job well, even if he doesn’t know that, even if he doesn’t comprehend friendship, he’s been exactly what Simon has needed. And now he has a job, and he wants Kier to know.

But Kier isn’t where Simon left him.

Cold panic rushes through Simon, hitting him hard and making his heart all but stop in his chest, and he goes sprinting from his room to the living room. “Dad?!” he calls out, and there’s panic in his voice, and he’s trembling just a bit, and it’s becoming hard to breathe. “Dad, where- where is Kier?”

There’s no answer.

Simon runs out of the living room, and back down the hallway once more. He runs to his father’s room, looking around. “Dad?!” he calls again. His fingers are tapping almost frantically against his hip, an anxious, desperate attempt to calm himself. His father isn’t in there either. And neither is Kier.

So Simon runs to his mother’s room.

And his mother isn’t there.

Head spinning almost too much to walk, Simon is shaking almost violently as he approaches the empty bed. He places a hand on it, looking down with confused, scared eyes. “Mom…?” Where are they? _Where is Kier?_

“...Simon?”

Simon turns the moment he hears the voice, recognizing it immediately and whipping around desperately to face the direction it came from. He finds Kier in the corner, laying there, motionless. Simon’s heart drops in his chest and pure, raw fear burns through him, but as he walks over, he sees Kier sit up, motions slower, stiffer than usual, but moving all the same. “Kier? Are you okay? H- How did you get in here? Who turned you on?”

Kier doesn’t say anything at first. Instead, he watches Simon, and it isn’t until he’s made it to where he’s sitting and sat down in front of him, that he manages out, “Your mo-mother-er. She was dyin-dy-dyin-was dying.” He sounds like a scratched CD, Simon thinks, which causes him to begin trembling again, eyes going wide with fear as he waits, needing the rest of Kier’s explanation. “You-your-your father, he started me u-started me up. I was told to stop her-stop her from dying. But I couldn’-couldn’t. He got ang-got an-gry-y. Hurt me. Took her to-ook her to the hospital-spital.”

“Got angry?” Simon repeats the words, not understanding at first, before his face goes pale, paler than it already is, and he sucks in a gasp. All emotion turns to anger, and he grabs Kier’s hands in an almost possessive manner. “Did he hurt you?!”

Kier blinks, not responding, and Simon realizes now that he’s having trouble understanding, that he can’t process the words as well as he normally can. But he does finally answer, words still broken and, Simon’s mind offers a word that is both perfect, and absolutely horrifying - glitched. “I don’-don’t feel pain.” Kier explains, and he gives a stiff shake of his head. “But I’m afraid my-m-my internal processors, the things that hel-that help with my communicat-that help with my communication and interactions have been damaged.”

Pulling free of Simon’s hands, Kier slowly stands up. He looks down at Simon, and reaches out a hand, helping pull him to his feet as well. “I should war-should warn you. My ability to interpre-terpret is not fully fun-functional-al. I can be repaired, we are built to-to-we are built to withstand damage. But until then I am not-am not at my top condition.”

Simon’s hands have clenched into fists at his sides, unable to even comprehend his hatred for his father. And it occurs to him, only briefly, that he’s prioritizing a robot over the main who raised him, but he doesn’t care. Because this isn't the first time. This isn't the first time he's lashed out and hurt someone. And now, regardless of if Kier can _feel_ it, he has hurt someone else - someone Simon has grown to care about, and consider a friend. “I’ll get you repaired.” he promises. Because that’s all he can do, that’s all he can think about, the only thing his mind can provide that isn’t hatred.

Simon takes Kier to his room. Kier’s movements are beginning to even out, become more fluid and natural again, but Simon’s aware of the way his eyes are flicking about the room, a blank, slightly confused look on his face. He’s having trouble processing it all, can’t completely understand his surroundings, because whatever internal mechanism gave him the ability to understand has been broken.

“Sit down,” Simon says. Kier sits on the end of the bed, watching Simon, who pulls his phone out of his pocket and sits down beside him. “I’m going to text Amy. She’s a friend of mine. Do you understand?” He’s speaking slowly, doing his best to annunciate so that whatever is left of Kier’s ability to comprehend can pick up his words. “We haven’t spoken in awhile, but she might be able to give me a place to stay. Give _us_ a place to stay.”

Kier nods slowly, but doesn’t respond, and Simon isn’t sure how much he understood, but he doesn’t ask. He’ll get Kier repaired, he tells himself. He’ll be okay. They both will be okay.

xxx

Simon leaves home an hour later.

Amy has agreed to letting him stay for awhile, but she lives in the next town over, and he doesn’t want to make that drive tonight, so he takes Kier to the same small motel he stayed in before, the night he had first purchased him. Simon leaves Kier turned off for the rest of the day, not wanting him to be on too long while in his current, damaged state, but at night, as he’s about to go to bed, he finds himself approaching the robot and, unsure of the cause of his own actions, starting him up.

Kier takes slower than usual to turn on.

Then he stares at Simon, a blank gaze on his face, and he says quietly, “I can’t do-can’t do much for you at the moment. I’m probably better off-probably better off-better off not being turn-tur-turned on.”

Simon shakes his head. “That’s not true.” he says, and he lets his fingers brush over Kier’s cheek as he had before. “I want you to come lay down with me,” he explains quietly. “I want the company.” Because he’s run away from home, is moving in with someone he hasn’t spoken to in months, and the only friend he has is a broken robot. And at the very least, he wants that broken robot’s company.

When Kier doesn’t respond to this, Simon takes his hand, and gently leads him to the small motel bed. It’s stiff, and filled with wires, and not _really_ big enough for two people, but Simon doesn’t particularly care. He motions for Kier to lay down, and he does as directed, before Simon lays down as well, facing him on the other side of the small bed.

After a moment of silence, Simon says, “I didn’t get a chance to tell you, but I got a job today. I start work in a week.” He’ll need to be back in this city by then, he thinks - he doesn’t want to drive from one town to another for work every day.

Kier nods at that. “Good,” he says. “That-at’s good.” He smiles just a bit, and Simon smiles back, and shifts a bit closer to Kier.

“I’ll get you fixed, you know. I really will. As soon as I possibly can.”

Kier nods, but doesn’t respond. Instead, he presses into Simon’s chest, closing his eyes. “You should res-should rest. Tomorrow will be busy. You need-eed-need it-it.”

Simon hums and wraps his arms around Kier, holding him close like he would a stuffed animal, keeping him pressed to his chest. “I know. Thanks.” He leans in to press a kiss to the top of Kier’s head. The gesture is thoughtless, caused purely out of a need for intimacy, some sort of closeness and comfort. Kier doesn’t react, and Simon doesn’t even know if he’s aware of the fact that he did it.

It doesn’t matter now, Simon thinks. Kier is right. Tomorrow is going to be busy, and he needs to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was long aah . Also a day late because I spent yesterday night having a panic attack oops :v I'm fine now obviously but it set me back a day !! So sorry about that!! But I guess I made up for it with the long chapter? Hopefully? Heh
> 
> I am 1000% sure I had something else I wanted to bring up in this author's note but i genuinely don't remember what it was going to be so uh. thank you for the nice reviews and I'm glad so many people are enjoying this !!


	5. Freedom

Kier asks to stay turned off on the drive to Amy’s house the next morning. Simon is taken aback by the request, scared and worried and sympathetic and honestly downright disturbed. He can’t imagine what being turned off would feel like - he still can’t comprehend the idea of existing as aware as Kier is but without the ability to think, to function on your own accord - and he can’t begin to fathom actually wanting to remain that way.

But Kier is damaged, and the world around him is confusing, hard for him to process or understand, and he wants to remain unconscious of it all, doesn’t want his processors to fight to understand everything around him on the long car ride. So once he has climbed into the passenger seat of Simon’s car, Simon reaches over to him, gently pressing down on the power button on his neck and watching as Kier’s eyes close, eyelashes brushing against his cheeks and body stiffening a bit.

The drive to Amy’s is a little under an hour. When he reaches her house, he parks in front of it, and turns Kier back on, giving him a moment to become as functional as his damaged state is capable of being before helping him out of the car and leading him to the doorstep.

Simon rings the doorbell, and a moment later a pretty girl with long brown hair and a bright, colorful dress answers the door. She immediately runs forward, pulling Simon into a hug. “You’re here! Was the drive okay?”

Simon returns the hug awkwardly. “The drive was fine, yeah.” He gives her a final squeeze before stepping away, breaking free of her hug and nodding towards Kier. “You need to meet someone.”

Amy giggles. “Is this your new robo-buddy? He’s so cute!” She waves to Kier, who’s staring at her, wide eyed as every system in his body that’s still functioning works tirelessly to take everything in and stay aware of his surroundings. “Hullo!”

“Hello,” Kier replies after a moment, giving a small smile. “My na-my name is K1ER, but Simon ha-Simon has nicknamed me-icknamed me Kier.”

Unsurprisingly, Amy frowns, and turns to Simon. “Something wrong with him?” she asks.

Simon nods. “Got a little, er… beaten up, yesterday. Need to take him in and get him repaired as soon as possible.” he explains, and he smiles reassuringly at Kier, reaching for his hand and taking it in his own. However, his expression drops once more, and his voice goes a bit quieter as he says, “I won’t stay here for too long, okay? I need to be back in the city by next week for work. I just needed somewhere to stay that wasn’t my dad’s.”

Amy nods, a smile forming on her face, caring and sympathetic. “It’s alright, Simon,” she promises. “I was happy to do it.” And then she walks back inside, and motions for Simon and Kier to follow. “You could have called me sooner, you know. I’ve spent the last few months wondering why I was getting the silent treatment.” She laughs softly at that, and Simon isn’t sure if there’s anything hidden within the laugh or not.

“Well, I wasn’t sure you wanted to talk to me anymore. I mean... “

“-What, you think I’d go, _‘Ooh, sorry, Mister Monroe, but I don’t talk to ex-drug addicts who’ve managed to turn their lives around after rehabilitation!’_?” Amy turns to look at Simon with a raised brow and a smirk. “You were welcome any time, Simon. You just had to call.”

Simon gives Amy a small smile at that, but says nothing else for the time being. At least, not on that subject - mostly because he feels bad, honestly. He had cut contact with everyone, and while most people had mattered little to him, Amy had been his best friend. Cutting contact with her had been a selfish move that had hurt both of them. After following her to the kitchen and watching her prepare lunch, he asks, “Do you know anywhere that repairs broken robots?”

xxx

The building is small, stuck between a cafe and a shoe store in the middle of downtown. Inside, there’s a vast array of different _parts_. Wires and machinery, small microchips, pieces of metal of various shapes and sizes and uses. Simon ignores it all, leading Kier up to the counter, where a balding man sits.

“Can I help you?”

Simon nods, and glances to Kier. “Yeah, actually. I was wondering if you could repair my robot? He’s-”

To Simon’s surprised, he’s interrupted with a chuckle. The man rolls his eyes. “Don’t tell me. Its processor and receptor is busted, yeah? That model, ah, K1, right? K1 in particular has the most sensitive processor I’ve ever seen. Push it around at all and it breaks. I’ve fixed at least five in the past few weeks. Most people who bought ‘em are returning it for a more stable model.” He stands and stretches. “Follow me.”

Simon doesn’t know how to feel about these words, but he does as directed. With Kier behind him, Simon follows the man through the door in the back and into a small room. There’s a bed in the corner, and the man walks to it, patting it before pointing to Kier. “Get it to lie down and turn it off, okay? I’ll do the repair work from here.” Simon does as directed, making Kier lie down on his stomach so as to make shutting him off easier.

Then, with a soft, and admittedly rather pointless promise of, “It’ll be okay, Kier,” Simon turns the robot off, leaving him lifeless and stiff, eyes closed, on the bed.

Now, the man walks out of the room, back to the front of the store.

Confused, Simon follows. “Where are you going?”

“Just wanted to discuss prices with you first,” the man explains. “This procedure isn’t too expensive. It’s just a matter of opening K1 up and readjusting different wires and chips, making sure everything is in place. Shouldn’t even have to buy any new parts. But this is gonna escalate. You’ll be doing this pretty often, unless you keep your bot in a bubble. Like I said, most people who bought K1 have returned it for another model. It’ll be cheaper in the long run, I think.”

Simon blinks. “Are you telling me to replace Kier?”

The man chuckles. “You gave it a name?” He drums his fingers on the counter now, and shakes his head. “I sell bots, you know. I can get you a good deal on a sturdier model - as low as half the price you’d pay for one in most stores. You won’t have to keep spending on K1. Think of it like… the difference between spending a small sum of money every few months, or spending a larger amount _one time_ , and never worrying about it again.”

“I’m not going to buy another model.” Simon says, and his face is pale now, and he isn’t sure why he feels so angry, because this man is just doing his job, and all things considered, the offer isn’t at all nonsensical. “I just want you to repair Kier. The faster the better.” Because he wants to get out of here, doesn’t feel safe in the presence of this man and all of the parts that he’s selling.

“What, you grow an attachment to your bot or something?” The man laughs. “It’s a piece of metal and some fancy electronics. Not like it can grow attached to _you_. Just doing its job. Open up its brain and mess with its wires a bit and it won’t even remember you exist.”

Expression blank and voice cold, Simon all but snaps, “Funny, I’m pretty sure the same would happen if you fucked with a human’s brain, too.” He’s tapping his fingers against the side of his leg, a subtle, calming motion to keep himself steady as he continues on, “I didn’t ask for your opinion. I didn’t ask for a _deal_. I asked for you to fix my friend.”

“Your _friend_.” The man repeats the word as a sneer, and turns to the back door where Kier waits, but he’s stopped suddenly, for Simon has grabbed him by the shoulder. The man turns. “What the hell? You want me to go fix your bot or not?”

“Not.” Simon’s voice is cold. “I’ll find somewhere else, thanks.” He shoves past him, walking through the backdoor and over to where Kier lays motionless, turning him on. The robot sits up, blinking a few times, looking around with confusion.

“I’m not-”

“I know.” Simon says, and he forces his words to soften just a bit when he hears the roughness of them, hears how angry and bitter he still sounds. “We’re going to find somewhere else to fix you. This place isn’t good for us.” He takes Kier’s hand, gently pulling him to his feet. “Let’s go, okay?”

xxx

Amy has dinner waiting on the table when they come home. Kier still isn’t repaired, so Simon leaves him shut off in the guestroom they’re staying in. As he sits down across from Amy to eat, he notices that she’s staring at him, and he frowns, furrowing his brow. He hasn’t even given any thought to his stimming, his leg shaking under the table and his fingers tapping repeatedly against the surface of it.

“What?”

“Something happened, didn’t it?”

Simon shakes his head and looks away, trying to focus his eyes on his food and not on her, forcing his fingers to go still. But the silence becomes thick and awkward and soon he can’t take it anymore, and he says, “I like Kier, Amy. Too much. The man at the store, he tried to offer me a deal. He told me to get a different model, because Kier was too fragile. And I wouldn’t do it. Because I- I love... him.”

Amy giggles at that. “Well, he _is_ cute. When’s the wedding?”

Rolling his eyes, Simon replies, “This isn’t a joke, Amy. I’m serious.”

“So am I.” Amy laughs again. “Or at least, partly. I mean… I don’t exactly see what your problem is. You care about Kier, and he wants to make you happy, doesn’t he? It’s his nature to want you to be happy. It’s not like he would laugh at you. ...Or are you too scared to tell a _robot_ how you feel?”

Simon smiles a bit, but doesn’t respond. Instead, he twirls a single spaghetti noodle around with his fork absentmindedly for a bit. Then, finally, he says, “After I get him repaired. I’ll talk to him about it then, okay?” He isn’t really sure what there would be to talk about, or what a robot would make of a declaration of love. But he supposes he’ll cross that bridge when he comes to it. “Tonight I need you to help me look up other places where I can get him repaired. Then first thing tomorrow I’ll take him in.”

xxx

A loud beeping sound rings through the room. It’s six thirty in the morning, and Simon takes a moment to become conscious enough to reach over and shut his phone’s alarm clock off. He’s only been using an alarm for three days now - he figures he’ll need to get used to it, considering he’ll be going to work soon.

“Mm, good morning, Simon.”

Simon turns. Sitting up beside him in bed is Kier. His eyes are wide and dark and he has a smile on his face, and he says with what might be a hint of sarcasm (which is ridiculous, Simon thinks, because robots shouldn’t be able to do that), “You did a good job waking up this morning. By next week you’ll be a professional.”

Simon chuckles. “You don’t know how it feels, you’ve never slept a day in your life so you’ve no room to talk.”

He leans in at that, and presses a soft, barely there kiss to Kier’s lips. Kier lets out an odd little sound, something similar to a hum, but he doesn’t really return the gesture. Which doesn’t faze Simon anymore - He learned after the first few times that kissing isn’t Kier’s strong point, and he supposes that shouldn’t surprise him, considering he most likely wasn’t programmed to _be_ kissed.

But Kier does reach forward to rest a hand on Simon’s shoulder, letting him keep his lips pressed to his for a moment longer before Simon pulls away, smiling a bit at Kier before standing up. “Amy and I are going out to look for apartments closer to where I’ll be working. I was wondering if you wanted to come…? It’ll be our home, at least for awhile. Figured you might want to have a say in it.”

Kier shrugs. “You know I don’t have a preference. My home is your home.”

Simon’s smile widens at that, but he shakes his head and holds out a hand for Kier, pulling him off of the bed and onto his feet. “What if I said I just want your company? Then would you come?”

Kier makes a face, and Simon can almost see amusement in it, like he thinks what he’s said is funny, or even _endearing_ , and he steps closer. “If that’s what you want,” he says. And he reaches for Simon’s hand, gently taking hold of it. The gesture is simple, and perhaps Simon is just reaching, desperate to find proof that whatever their relationship is isn’t just him playing pretend, but it makes him grin all the same, heart fluttering and cheeks reddening in the most absolutely _embarrassing_ way.

He leans in and kisses Kier again, pressing his lips to the robot’s for just a brief moment. And he knows it isn’t Kier’s intended use. He knows that this isn’t in his programming, that it’s not something he’s been built to do.

But Kier is smiling when he pulls away, those pretty eyes of his bright and big and beautiful, and Simon is happier than he’s been in ages, because regardless of if it’s in his programming, Kier’s the best companion, the best friend and the best lover and the best _everything_ , he could ask for. So he’s not about to let something as silly as _programming_ stop him now.

-end

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the end!!! Got this done in just about a week, and altho I'll be going through and rereading this last chapter tomorrow when I'm more awake (it's just about 3 am here hahaa), overall I'm really happy with how it's turned out and I really hope everyone who's read it has enjoyed it too!!
> 
> If you want, if you've read through the whole thing, I'd love for you to leave a comment below! I know I don't always (in fact, I basically never) respond to reviews, but it isn't at all because I don't see them - I'm on ao3 every day, I just don't have a good response. But it's always appreciated and it's honestly what keeps me writing! Anyway, again, I really hope you enjoyed!! (now I have to... work on my other fanfictions lmao...)


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